Musings of an oft-bemused former laboratory postdoc

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Merry Mythicism

No, not a lisp; just recognition that the season prematurely presaged by crass commerciality, and in which to gluttonise and over-indulge, is of an ancientness that makes its Christian appropriation look like a mere bairn on religion’s evolutionary timescale. I do my darnedest to ignore it: trees in shopping malls in October; working kids into a too-soon frenzy (remember how slowly time passed when you were a child? Agony wasn’t it?); condescending politicians, pseudo-sentimental celebrities, networking opportunists and pompous traditionalists reminding us what a ‘special time’ it is; unnecessary stress, such that, when it arrives, we’re already bored of the whole tedious, dutiful business, and looking forward to getting it out the way. The older we get, the less we need its ostentatious metronome ticking away at our lives, but the more we are forced to confront it by the marketing god who commands allegiance and attention.

Yet, as I come out of my ‘Bah Humbug!’ pre-period and allow it to enter my thoughts, I now – now – happily acknowledge it is (almost) upon us. I’ll travel on Xmas Eve (late, to avoid the traffic), in hopeful anticipation of a pleasant few days: getting together with family; opportunity to rekindle some neglected friendships; and, of course, the excuse to gluttonise and over-indulge. Never mind ascetics; I’m happy to take in the spirit of the season – starting with a nice long G&T… (As for ‘good will to all men’, well shouldn’t that apply anyway, whatever time of year?)